Revan's Story
by Ender Mahe
Summary: A retelling of Kotor, with substantive changes. A darker tone, particularly as the story develops. Plot elements and characters are altered or changed altogether to make it feel more realistic. Rated T for now, for violence, horror, trauma. It's not all dark, there's a lot of comic and light as well. The goal is greater realism and deeper characters. FRev.
1. Awakening

Chapter 1: Awakening

She was in bed. That was the first thing she realized. Idly she wondered where she was, how she'd gotten there. The fact that she wasn't sure would have terrified her if her thoughts were any less sluggish. What was going on?

She opened her eyes, only to screw them shut again with a wince at the bright light. Her senses started to respond. She could feel the rough sheets of her bed, the thin mattress beneath her. Her ears started working, sounds growing louder like the volume being turned up on a holo. The loudest was a pulsing alarm klaxon.

Then the whole world shook. She clutched at her bed to keep from falling off. The shaking stopped, and she rushed to make it to her feet, banging her head against the bunk about six inches above her face in the process. She grunted, rubbed her forehead for a moment, and pulled her legs from the tangles of the rough white sheets. Looking down at her self she had a faint feeling of surprise at her tight fitting undergarment, all that she wore. She had no complaint about the clothing itself—it's dull gray form was supportive and convenient; what bothered her more was that it didn't seem all that familiar to her. The world shook again, accompanied this time by a distant explosion. Clearly more pressing concerns were at hand. She had just put her naked feet to the cold floor when the only door burst open.

"We're under attack by the Sith. They've already started boarding!"

"Wha ..." her voice cracked unexpectedly. Her throat felt dry, her tongue heavy. She tried again. "What's happening?" Even as she spoke her mind started whirring into action. The scariest part was that he, a soldier, payed absolutely no attention whatsoever to her tight under-clothing—that was something that happened only under the most dire circumstances possible.

"The Sith ambushed us, they must be after Bastila and her fellow Jedi, which means we have to get to the bridge."

"Wait, who?" He spared her an incredulous glance.

"Bastila, the Jedi in charge of this mission? The commanding officer on ship? Ringing any bells?" His tone rose sarcastically. "I hope you're better at fighting than thinking. Get your weapons and armor and let's go."

Another explosion punctuated his words. She climbed to her feet, only to stagger and lean against her bunk at the sudden rush of blood to her head. Still, the man obviously held her in contempt, pacing frantically with blaster in hand and occasionally throwing her impatient glances; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her weakness. Her legs were watery, her balance thrown off. Still, a couple stumbling steps brought her over to the locker at the foot of the bed. The locker held a loose but modest shirt with a heavily pocketed vest and a pair of practical pants. She dressed quickly, and pulled on the boots she found beneath the rest of the clothes. Curiously, they had very soft soles which wouldn't last long on any tough terrain. They were, she admitted, rather comfortable. She turned back to the Soldier, who was holding out a sword.

"Take this vibrosword. At least you'll distract them for a few seconds while I take care of the Sith." She took the sword without comment, still too uncertain of her situation to risk antagonizing her only ally while combat raged about them. "And here they'd talked you up so much, all the languages you knew, all of it. Ha."

He was definitely pushing that resolve, however.

She took a moment to examine the vibrosword. It was a standard, mass produced model, that much was immediately evident. The handle had a no-slip ribbed grip, a simple guard, and a small built-in motor that rapidly vibrated the blade for maximum penetration, hence the name. She glanced up at him.

"Don't you have an energy shield?"

Swordplay was a lost art since the earliest invention of effective and accurate firearms. Only the Jedi, who could miraculously deflect blaster shots with those odd blades of theirs could effectively use swords in combat. Then a revolution changed everything—the personalized energy shield. A vast miniaturization of starships shield generators, they allowed soldiers to close to unheard of close quarters where their swords and decimate their blaster-wielding foes. An instant resurgence of the melee weapon took place across the galaxy. Still, the blaster would never be outmoded entirely. Because of the small size of the arm-mounted generators, the shields could not have a big enough power supply to be self-sustaining. Their designers compromised. In order to keep the power output high enough to be useful, they made the shields a burst shield with enough power to generate a personal shield for several minutes before having to rebuild power. They were not perfect, however. Concentrated blaster fire could tear them apart, and their cost prevented standard use by an entire army.

But they were pretty much required if you were going to go charging straight into blaster fire. Unfortunately, soldier boy didn't agree.

"You won't last long enough to use it. Let's go."

The odd pair moved with as much haste as their fear allowed, creeping through the narrow, once-white corridors of the starship and stepping over shattered work consoles, slipping in leaking fluids and ducking beneath exposed and sparking wires. It seemed that the battle had already come through this section of ship on its way towards the bridge.

Words filled her mind, humming out efficiently from someplace in the back of her mind.

_ A Hammerhead class cruiser. Big, for a mass-produced capital ship, but with four undersized ion engines, not that fast. Four dual heavy turbolaser cannons, two normal turbolaser cannons, two quad laser cannons and two point defense laser cannons. Quite a punch, but not heavily armored enough to let them slug it out in long engagements, which made them particularly vulnerable to fighters. _The ship lurched under another bombardment, and she stumbled for a moment before righting herself._ Like the kind no doubt swarming outside right now._

She briefly wondered when exactly it was that she'd learned that as she picked her way through the debris and braced against additional explosions. Occasionally flashing lights would illuminate the corridor as a slowly cracking view port came into view, revealing the massive and deadly light show that was the battle outside. Astromech droids wheeled by with calm assurance, their welders working to repair cracks in the bulkhead, their mundane chores in stark contrast to the bodies of Sith and Republic alike that lined the corridor.

It wasn't long before the distant sound of blasterfire neared and they broke into the Republic line. People were everywhere, their glaringly bright orange uniforms flashing past in all directions while open helmets revealed alien and human mouths shouting in a variety of languages, all the voices panicky.

In short, it was chaos. A tense voice echoed over the sputtering P.A., barely audible over the ruckus. "Prepare for borders. All hands to combat stations, all hands ..." The voice cut off to static.

An explosion ripped through the ship, making the floor shudder beneath them and kicking up a cloud of pulverized bulkhead. The pair struggled on, elbowing and shoving their way through the heavily armored throng. They dashed past a causeway to see flashes of light and brief images of black and silver armored soldiers locked in mortal combat with Republic orange troopers. The PA crackled to life again, its failing power garbling the message. "Fall back to ... sitions! Say again, hold ..."

The crowds quickly filtered away as they progressed towards the bridge. Her eyes tightened in thought. _Why leave the most important part of the ship undefended? The soldiers are being drawn off. It's a diversion._

At last as they were getting close to the bridge the quiet was near total, only the distance echoes of shouts reaching them down the long corridors. Bodies lay strewn about, both Republic and Sith, though the vast majority wore orange, not silver. There was a sort of order to the forms splayed out with still expressions of utmost agony. And there was something different – their wounds were... worse, though it seemed morbid to call some dead more injured than others. Most of them had been killed with a sword, clearly, but what kind of sword or soldier cut limbs clean off?

It smelled.

The charred flesh beneath flash-burned armor, the blood from gaping vibrosword wounds, the unbelievable movement captured in those static bodies; it was almost overwhelming.

There was a split reaction inside of her. Part of her was reduced to gibbering terror, but another, deeper part of her kept thinking, calculating, planning. She wondered how the Republic were trying to counter the fighter threat, what would work, what wouldn't. Even now, she found herself unconsciously keeping behind the cover of debris as much as possible.

They struggled on. She ducked down to scoop up a blaster pistol for herself, only to have her companion reach out and grab her arm. A flash of anger rushed through her, though she didn't know why. "Would you rob the dead?" he hissed. Things like that are what separate us from the Sith." He let go and marched on.

Movement jerked her eyes. She paused and tapped her companion, slowing him as well. Silently she pointed at the twitching uniform of orange, almost black from the long blaster char across its back. A republic soldier, prone amongst the bodies, its only motion the low rise and fall of breathing.

Now that she was still, though, the pounding of her heart, the flood of adrenaline; everything was clear. She hadn't felt this aware since-

"Hey, soldier," her companion whispered quietly. The injured soldier started and half-turned on the ground. "Easy, we're with you. I'm Ensign Trask Ulgo, and this is..." He gestured for her to introduce herself. In her tense state it took a second for her name to come to mind. "Ensign Kyrena Satele."

"Alright, I'm Ensign Brisler" returned the prone soldier through a grimace. Trask and Kyrena crouched down beside him to better hear is weak voice. "They cut through us . . . to the bridge. The rest of my squad . . . uuummf . . . all dead . . . trying to stop that . . . that _thing_." Brisler shuddered in horror and lay still.

"Damn. Go scout out ahead while I try to save him." Trask didn't even look at her as he spoke, instead focusing on the emergency bandages strapped to the soldiers uniform. Kyrena didn't bother to reply, and instead crept forward slowly while Trask set about giving Brisler first aid.

The memories of her training back with the 501st Recon Battalion, attached to the 2nd Brigade of the Corellian Corps, were hazy, as if viewed through a dirty, thick sheet of transparisteel, and her memories of the actual wars were even worse. Post traumatic stress disorder, the Jedi Healer had told her, which they had fixed, somehow. If not for them she may never have been able to pull herself together again. Still, as she ghosted forwards she didn't rely on her memories so much as her instincts. Her thin boots suddenly made sense, making no sound as she crept forward. Her body, her muscles remembered what to do. A handful of meters down the corridor it turned sharply to the left. She eased forwards, back against the left wall, listening hard and stepping carefully over the bodies.

Down the corridor echoed the sounds of battle. Shouts and blaster shots rebounded off the walls and their source quickly came into view. Two republic soldiers lay prone, trying to use fallen soldiers as cover as they traded fire with an entire squad of six Sith, the rearguard for their assault team on the bridge. The two were covered by a third, standing in the middle of the corridor and dueling another Sith. Sparks flew from their vibroswords as they hammered at each other, the brief flashes reflecting off the enclosed black faceplate of the Sith armor. Kyrena watched from her distant position, instinctively sizing up the two fighters.

The Sith was stronger, definitely, but the soldier was the more skilled. The duel blocked the rest of the Sith from pouring in overwhelming firepower without hitting their man. The other Sith grew impatient with their companion, or perhaps simply didn't care for him. One way or another, it didn't stop them from sliding a frag grenade across the debris-strewn floor which bounced to a stop at the Sith's feet.

Kyrena suppressed a curse and slid back around the corner as the explosion tore the Republic Troopers and the melee-fighting Sith to shreds. She had only seconds before the rest of the Sith arrived. She could run or fight. Or . . .

…

The Sith marched down the corridor, anonymous masks turning right and left as they scanned for more Republic soldiers. They marched on down the corridor until silence reigned again.

All was not still, however. One of the corpses, a Rodian with half its face a melted mess, started to twitch. Kyrena slid herself out from her awkward position jammed between the Rodian and a Sith with a hole in his gut. The Sith got the worst of Kyrena's intervention, coming out of it a blaster pistol lighter.

Kyrena pushed down the terrified part of her and clung to the deeper, stronger part as she strapped the blaster pistol to her waist. A few more moments located her a mostly unstained suit of light armor which she, after discarding her vest, slithered into. It was certainly not heavy enough to turn away a blaster bolt, consisting of heat reflecting fabrics instead of the hardened ceramic plates of medium armor or the full-on enclosed durasteel of heavy armor, but it would keep her alive if she took a hit and reduce the burns of a near miss. It was rough on her skin even through her shirt, and while the thought of staining her clothes with someone else's blood was a little repulsive, it was definitely better than nothing. And on the plus side, she could move as freely as ever. She took a moment to check the utility belt she'd picked up with the blaster pistol—it held a spare power pack for the pistol, a serrated survival knife, and a datapad. Not much. She moved forward.

The battle scene was a mess. The fragmentation grenade had shredded through the four soldiers caught in the blast, scarring the walls with black explosive residue, tiny chunks of shrapnel, and blood now slowly dripping its way back to the floor, as if seeking out the husks to which it had once belonged. She stepped over the bodies, tightening her grip on her vibrosword. Ahead the sounds of battle once again came down to her, but more pressingly, the sound of heavy, quick footsteps was quickly growing louder. She dropped among the bodies again. It was another Sith. The soldier skidded to a stop right beside her as both heard the approaching shouts and blaster fire, though this time coming from _behind_ her. She sneaked a glance and saw Trask and Brisler backing towards them firing rapidly at two Sith warriors. Even as she watched Brisler took two shots to the chest, spinning him around and shattering his blaster pistol, and another scoring a deep black scar across his back before he dropped to his knees. With a strangled gasp he dropped his ruined blaster, drew his survival knife and tackled the nearer of the two Sith. Three more bolts of energy took him in mid leap killing him before he landed. His death grip on the knife held strong, and momentum drove it through the Sith's weak gap in the shoulder joint. They both went down hard.

The Sith next to Kyrena seemed to snap out of his shock and took aim.

. . .

Trask sighed with relief as his last shot took the final Sith in the faceplate, killing him instantly and knocking him backwards, sparing Trask the view of his handiwork. His pistol was hot even through his gloved hands, heated almost unbearably by the discharge of so much energy. It buzzed to alert him of a failing charge in his powerpack and he reached for the spare on his belt as he turned to look for Kyrena's body again only to jerk at the sight of a Sith not three meters away from him. He whipped his blaster pistol up but held his fire as the Sith only twitched oddly. What new sort of wizardy was...

The Sith's knees buckled, sending him falling forwards to reveal Kyrena pulling her new survival knife from the side of the Sith's neck. It took Trask a moment to reply. "I... I guess I underestimated you Kyrena. Thank you." Trask stepped over to the wounded Sith still wrapped in Brisler's embrace and, over the soldier's pleas, shot him.

They moved on.

A moment later the bridge came into view. Trask still seemed shaken. "I have to apologize, Kyrena. It's just . . . I've fought for so long, seen so many new faces killed . . . it's easier to keep them far away." Kyrena only nodded, completely focused on her surroundings. The terrified part of her now was shocked into silence at the death she'd caused, leaving the deeper part of her more completely in control. Without it she would have been gibbering in the corner.

Trask's thoughts were interrupted as bright light spilled into the corridor as the bridge doors opened. A blurred form launched at the two of them, nearly bowling them over as they each ducked reflexively. Kyrena whirled to see what had just been destroyed, and was startled to see that the form was a body, a still living human woman who, unbelievably, had landed on her feet even as she slid backwards another full meter before coming to a dignified stop. She had on a strange sort of brown robe beneath which she wore a tan tunic crossed left over right, held tight by a brown leather belt.

"So you want to play do you?" the woman muttered to herself. She shrugged off her outer cloak. "Alright, let's play." The woman started running, accelerating far faster than any normal human could. She headed straight for them, almost as if Trask and Kyrena were beneath her notice. "Look out!" Kyrena shoved Trask against the far wall, using his greater mass to propel herself safely to her own wall. They separated just in time as the woman stormed past them, a bright blue light igniting from her hand, no, from some sort of tube?

Kyrena blinked. A lightsaber. A blade of pure energy which could cut through almost anything, necessitating the expensive coat of Cortosis weave over all Republic vibroswords lest they be cut straight through. The weapon that single-handedly gave the entire Republic Army High Command a headache and skyrocketing damage reports once the Sith started using them en mass. Even a nobody like her had heard about the lightsaber, the weapon of the Jedi. Which probably meant that whoever she was fighting would be . . .

Out of the bridge sauntered another figure, this one a human male all in black. He sneered at the charging Jedi and ignited his own lightsaber, a deep red, with the weapon's unique snap-hiss. Instantly they were locked in mortal combat.

"That's a dark Jedi, Kyrena. We should hang back, we'd only get in the way."

Kyrena offered him a sidelong glance before returning her gaze to the fight ahead. It took only a few moments to see that he was right. During her time on Corellia she'd been trained in vibrosword fighting, as it was quieter than a blaster, more heavily than standard Army brigades were and had a basic understanding of the Echani hand-to-hand fighting style, but the Jedi fought like nothing she'd ever seen. She fought in a whirl of flashing attacks, her blue blade flickering almost too fast to see. Her opponent, meanwhile, seemed to be mounting a slower, stronger defense before making powerful lunges forward.

The fight seemed about even, the Jedi and Sith trading blows and sharing near misses equally. The ship, however, was definitely losing. Wherever the shining lightsabers encountered starship bulkhead they cut right through it, leaving blazing hot yellow trails of superheated metal that slowly cooled to black. Sparks and intense energy discharges when the lightsabers met further sullied the formerly immaculate white and red corridor. It was beautiful, in a way, as much as it was terrible.

The Jedi pressed the attack and they backed into the bridge, swirling starfield visible through the viewports, complete with the flashes and explosions of dogfighting snubfighters, forming their backdrop. It was something straight out of the holo-vids.

The battle seemed to be taking a toll on the two contestants as they broke apart for a moment. The Jedi was gasping heavily now, the Sith just as winded. It would not be long now. The Jedi leaped back into action, though not with the speed she once had. She swung right but caught the Sith by surprise by dropping her attack low. He tried to follow with his block, but she dropped it lower still, to slice cleanly through the Sith's left foot. He gasped in surprise, his lightsaber loose in his hands, and the Jedi took full advantage. She whirled and brought her blade cleanly through his chest. It sizzled there, cooking through him for a moment before his eyes glazed over. He was in shock, dying. The Jedi extinguished her blade and turned her back on him, stepping towards Kyrena and her cloak.

The Sith, however, was not done yet. A trembling hand reached to his belt and did something, pressed something Kyrena couldn't make out. She sucked in breath to call out a warning, and the Jedi tensed as if she sensed something was wrong, but it was too late. A massive explosion rocked the bridge. Transparent tactical readouts, most already cracked, shattered completely. The bridge officers, already dead at their posts, were completely consumed. The fireball reached out to the Jedi, rolling over her, it's thunderous roar overwhelming her scream. It reached towards Kyrena and Trask, but was suddenly pulled back as the transparisteel viewports gave out and atmosphere was sucked out into space. Kyrena, blown backwards a step by the explosion, now staggered forward as space tugged at her. The fail safes had withstood the damage, however, and solid durasteel snapped down to cover the gaping holes the explosion had left behind.

The two Republic soldiers scrambled over to the Jedi. She was in a bad way. She'd collapsed backwards as the vacuum tugged on her and dragged across the floor on her terribly burned back. To be honest, there wasn't much of it left, if the rapidly swelling pool of blood and pus was any indication. The Jedi looked up at them, at Kyrena, and her face scrunched up in confusion. "You ... yo ... y."

Trask pounded an armored fist on the abused deck plate. "Damn, we could have used her help."

He gathered himself quickly while Kyrena stared, lost, into the Jedi's gaze. "Come on, we have to move. If Bastila's not here she must have abandoned ship, and that means there's nothing to keep the Sith from blowing the Endar Spire to dust. Come on!" He tugged on Kyrena's bloodstained light armor. Kyrena pulled herself together and forced her mind off the Jedi's light blue eyes, still wide with pain. "Alright, let's go." It took but a moment to scoop up her lightsaber.

She looked up at Trask, who's straight white hair now stood revealed and on end, having lost his helmet to the explosion. It struck her how old he was for a soldier, crows feet already crinkling the corners of his eyes. She nodded, and together they charged through the disaster that was the bridge, headed for the opposite access-way. Shards of melted glass stuck into their boots and ash from vaporized corpses smeared into their clothing, but they made it.

Kyrena turned right towards the escape pod on this level but Trask paused. "Hold on, I heard something over here, maybe another survivor." He ran over to unlock the door, urgency making him clumsy on the controls, while Kyrena covered her doorway with her liberated blaster pistol. Trask hadn't complained since her borrowed weapons had saved his life. Trask gasped and Kyrena did an abrupt about face. Another dark Jedi, this one with a double bladed lightsaber, rose from where he was crouched on the floor with a malicious sneer. "Run!" They bolted towards the escape pod, but Trask gave a cry and suddenly he was gone. Kyrena turned in midstride and saw him flying backwards and land impaled on the Sith's lightsaber. He gasped, blood bubbling from his lips, as his own weight slid him downwards and the blade slowly cut him in two.

The Sith turned his gaze on her and made some sort of gesture. Kyrena froze, completely unable to move. Helpless. All she could do was watch as the Sith tossed aside what was left of Trask and took a step towards her.

* * *

Ulgo Trask lay in a crumpled heap of agony. He had lost all feeling below his chest, but what he could feel felt like it was on fire, and his vision had turned red. But he could see what would happen next. He gathered himself for a single, final effort. He grit his teeth and reached for his blaster pistol, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The light faded away to blackness as his target exploded, but his final feeling was more than just pain. There was . . . satisfaction.

* * *

The ship's computer, whatever was left of it, followed its simple programming and assumed a destroyed control panel meant a hull breach or some other drastic emergency, and slammed the door shut, overriding any attempt to bypass it.

Kyrena stumbled and fell as the hold on her suddenly vanished. The lights flickered as electricity danced on the door, further blackening it. What _was_ that? _Lightning? _How were they supposed to defeat _that?_ Even over the lightning she heard the enraged scream of the Sith. Suddenly a red blade stabbed through the door. Kyrena scrambled to her feet and took off running through the only remaining door and jerked up her blaster as she caught sight of someone there. The human's bright orange jacket quickly reassured her. Come on, come on!" he shouted, gesturing frantically to the last remaining escape pod. "Is there anyone else?" She shook her head mutely. "Then let's move, they could destroy us any second!"

The thought spurred Kyrena and she slid awkwardly through the narrow entrance into the small escape pod. The soldier slid in behind her and flipped the hatch closed and locked. "Fire up the launch sequence while I get strapped in." Kyrena didn't waste time replying. Her fingers were a blur on the digital keypad as she selected a trajectory. It would be amazing luck if they didn't collide with any debris on their way out, but there weren't many options. She keyed in the countdown and quickly pulled on the cumbersome waist and chest restraints. Just as she finished tightening the last strap the engines engaged.

Their was no subtlety to them; it was a burst of raw power that rocketed them away from the dying Endar Spire. The thrust, unmitigated by an inertial compensator to allow for more passengers, smashed Kyrena's head back into the headrest, partially stunning her.

The view out the rear viewport was spectacular, though in her dazed state Kyrena didn't truly appreciate it. All around fighter craft spat energy, focused beads of death wrought in fireballs of exploding fuel and energy cells. In the distance Capital ships heaved massive energy bolts of power from oversized turbolasers which bathed shields in a wash of arcing electricity. The Endar Spire itself was before them, locked into its last evasive maneuver before the captain was killed. It slowly eased its way through a shallow turn while its smaller brethren darted around it, using the ships hull, now streaming atmosphere from multiple breaches, as both cover and ambush. The ships ion engines were a mess, only one burning at full strength, and the vertical bridge which gave the hammerhead cruiser its name was even worse. Another wave of Sith fighters strafed the engines and the resulting explosion was too much for the superstructure to bear. The two watched in silence as the Endar Spire came apart, pushed on by secondary explosions, until the burning atmosphere of reentry completely blocked their view.

Crashing through the atmosphere, Kyrena decided, was not a pleasant experience. It was as if, annoyed by their dramatic entrance, the planet had decided to fight back and started slapping the little pod around. Its occupants were helplessly tossed around in violent side-to-side maneuvers and stomach lurching drops. The temperature inside the pod started to rise dramatically even through the heat shield as the roar of atmosphere grew to a fevered pitch. Sweat covered her body, droplets splattering the bulkhead as she was wrenched back and forth yet again. Nausea became a constant companion, and soon more than just sweat sloshed back and forth. It went on and on and on and on. When she'd just about given herself up for death by escape pod, the proximity alarm started. It got louder as they approached, shrieked louder and louder until with an almighty upheaval they-


	2. Taris

Chapter 2: Taris

_Kyrena was on the bridge of a Republic capital ship. The familiar standard layout, however, wasn't quite right, as if it had been extensively modified at some point. The details were fuzzy and seemed to shift the moment her attention wavered._

_ Bodies covered the floor, some bearing the scars of blasterfire, some the seared marks of a lightsaber, and those struck down by dark Jedi were even more savagely mutilated, turned into barely recognizable smears of flesh and fabric. The fighting, though in its last throws, continued. The last remaining Republic soldiers took cover behind a knot of brown-robed Jedi which made the point of their advancing wedge. Though greatly diminished, if the surrounding carnage was any indication, they continued forward through the last Sith and dark Jedi. Even as she watched, the lead Jedi, a young woman of perhaps 20 in distinctive red and orange robes, slipped her yellow saber through the guard of the final fallen Jedi and slashed him open from shoulder to hip._

_ Oddly the violence, the splattered gore of combat, didn't horrify Kyrena. Instead she felt... nothing. Inside her was a vast emptiness, a void. She searched around the edges in confusion and felt a barrier within her. Behind it pulsed anger, a blind and towering rage, barely restrained. The amount of power, of pure destruction held at bay did allow something to break through the void: fear. That amount of power surely couldn't be constrained inside a single person. It would explode outwards, infecting everyone, everything around her into a mass of hatred and destruction. The barrier seemed to weaken, to diminish, and the darkness closed in around Kyrena, pressing down, crushing her, until . . ._

The first thing she was aware of was pain. Her skull pulsed with every beat of her heart, her lungs burned with each breath, her chest ached. All of that sensory overload meant she was awake. Awake, and lying down on something soft. Normally she'd have ignored it all and sought the oblivion of unconsciousness, but the idea of returning to the rash of violence in her dreams prodded her towards wakefulness.

She was about to open her eyes when she remembered she had no idea where she was. Something deep inside her reacted, just as it had on the Endar Spire. She burst up, hands reaching for weapons at her hips that weren't there. She took in her surroundings in an instant, power surging through her limbs, ready to fight.

A bright orange flight jacket with the name Carth Onassi stenciled into it reassured her, and as fast as it had come the power retreated deep within her again. It's flight left her gasping for air, and she slumped back down onto the bed, limbs leaden at her sides.

Carth half rose from his chair, concern obvious on his face.

"Are you alright?"

Kyrena nodded mutely, not yet trusting her voice. A cold sweat trickled down her skin as her mind struggled with the horror of what she'd seen, what she'd done.

Carth slumped back in his chair, relieved.

"Well, it's good to see you up instead of thrashing about in your sleep."

* * *

Carth watched the woman carefully, wondering despite his relief. Who was this girl? He'd watched her over the internal camera system, hoping to get both her and Trask out. He'd watched her gut a soldier from behind, hide amongst mutilated, bleeding corpses. A raw recruit . . . a trained scout, yes, but as green as it got when it came to fleet action. And there hadn't been a single expression on her face while she'd done it.

Now she looked like she was going to be sick, and she clearly wasn't faking it.

She'd at last noticed her bloodstained light armor. Her eyes went wide, tears threatening, and she pulled frantically, desperately at it.

Carth calmly helped her pull off the armor. This, at least, he'd seen before, he could handle. She shuddered violently and he instinctively moved to sit beside her on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, shoving aside the little lurch in his stomach. She was young enough to be his daughter. _She needs this, stop thinking about yourself. It doesn't mean anything._

They sat like that, unmoving until eventually Kyrena ran out of tears and at last drifted back to sleep, still leaning into him.

Carth sat as still as he could while Kyrena slept, head tucked into his arm. Asleep it was hard to credit her with the flat stare and knife jammed precisely through a Sith's neck, blood flowing down her arm. She just seemed so... innocent. Helpless, almost.

She trembled in his arms. A nightmare, doubtless from the chaos of the fight in the Spire and their rough landing in the escape pod. If he hadn't had her to look after, to focus him, he probably would be just as traumatized.

Poor girl, so young to be caught up in this war.

_Damn you Revan for starting this war._

She trembled again, whimpering.

"It's okay," he whispered, "I've got you. You're safe."

_The lead Jedi raised her yellow lightsaber, still hissing with evaporating blood, at the last standing figure in dark robes. This dark Jedi stared out into space, watching the battle which ensued there, and payed no attention to the chaos surrounding him. The Jedi raised her blade and gestured at the Sith's back. "You cannot win, Revan." _

_ The dark Jedi at last turned, but where his face should be there was only a Mandalorian mask. He shrugged, almost indifferently, and raised his own lightsabers. Two. The Jedi shouted a battle cry and rushed toward her fallen comrade only to stagger to a stop as something, some sound, what?_

_ Before the sound made any sense the space battle got closer. A lot closer. Massive turbolaser blasts from the nearest capitol ship poured into the ship and sent shattered transparisteel flying like a thousand deadly daggers._

Kyrena burst into wakefulness, hands reaching, searching for... for _something_. No, no it was part of the nightmare. Yes, it must be. Just as quickly as she came awake her focus shifted from within her to her surroundings. She was lying on the same bed from her last bout of consciousness. She wasn't sure how many times she'd slipped in and out, but from the pale light it seemed to be early morning.

Carth, the man from the escape pod, was sitting next to the bed, slouched deep in his chair, head leaned back and snoring lightly. For the first time she had the chance to really look at him. He was in his early forties, though he had the worn, beaten down look of a man who'd been fighting for a long, long time. Even relaxed in sleep the stress lines were clearly visible around his eyes, making his handsome features look older than his years. His bright orange jacket hung open over a dull gray shirt that bunched up at his heavy belt, which held twin blaster pistols and supported brown pants. The outfit was finished by black spacer boots.

Beyond him lay some sort of apartment. It was spartan, to say the least, and covered in dirt and a layer of dust. The lights were all burned out save one down the lone hallway, emitting a yellowish flickering glow across the room that counterbalanced the pale natural light seeping through two filthy windows. Apart from her bed and Carth's chair, a single shredded couch and a battered workbench rounded out the furniture. Even from a distance it was clear the only reason even that furniture remained was because it was welded to the wall.

The bed creaked loudly as she shifted her weight to come up into a cross-legged position.

Carth started awake, blearily reaching for his blasters before realizing where he was.

"Oh, hey, you're awake again." He smiled wanly at her, relief evident in his eyes.

"Where . . ." she coughed, voice raspy from the smoke of explosions. She swallowed and tried again. "Where are we?"

"Taris, we're on Taris, the planet the Sith Fleet was orbiting when we attacked." He grimaced. "It was a trap. They knew we'd try to take out Malak when we had the chance, so they set up an ambush for us. Or maybe..." He paused, forehead furrowed in thought. "Maybe it was just for Bastila."

Kyrena was struck by the onset of a migraine headache. She winced and put her right hand to her head as if to hold in the pain. "Wait, what? Who?"

Carth gave her a concerned looked.

"You must have hit your head harder than I thought. Revan and Malak? Jedi leaders in the war against the Mandalorians? Turned around as Sith and attacked us right after winning? Ringing any bells?

She shrugged helplessly. Carth grunted in frustration. "Do you at least remember your name?" Kyrena gave him an annoyed glance. Not helping! "Kyrena Mahe."

Carth nodded. "Great. Carth Onassi. Okay, look. Malak and Revan were once both part of the Jedi Order, but they were both young and headstrong. And against the wishes of the Jedi Council they went to battle the Mandalorians on the outer rim after they invaded." Carth paused and gave her an appraising look. "So you really don't remember any of this?"

Kyrena shook her head and dropped her hand to her side, clenching it into a fist. If she clenched hard enough she could keep her face relaxed and focus on his words. Hiding her hurt from was instinct, as natural as breathing. Hurt was something you didn't show. Carth stifled a yawn and carried on.

"Something happened out there. Something corrupted them, drew them over to the dark side. Who knows, maybe there was something rotten in them all along. Regardless, they formed an army of ex-republic soldiers and fallen Jedi, with Revan at the head. Then they marched on the Republic, completely unstoppable... we couldn't stop them..."

He paused a second and swallowed hard before continuing. "Then Revan was killed by Bastila's Jedi strike team. But even that didn't slow the Sith down. Malak just stepped in and assumed Revan's role. He took control of the Sith armada and resumed the bloody conquest of the outer worlds."

If anything Kyrena's head hurt even worse, but she grit her teeth and bore it.

"Wow . . . okay. But . . . what is someone as important as Bastila doing here?"

"Kyrena . . ." Carth sounded hesitant now and leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees. "She's our commanding officer. She's a Jedi, and our only hope against Malak and the Sith. You met her just days ago. I . . . I think you may have some brain damage."

Her headache pulsed a sharp knife of pain and Carth's words slid across her mind like water, in and out. Ouch. Not something she wanted to be thinking about right now. She got the pain under control and tried to remember what they'd been talking about. Right, this Jedi, super important person.

"But how could anyone, even a Jedi, be so important?"

If her brushing aside his concerns bothered Carth, he hid it well.

"Bastila is no ordinary Jedi. She can go into a Battle Meditation, which lets her swing whole battles in our favor. She's the only thing that's kept us in the fight with the Sith at all. We have to keep her safe, no matter what."

Kyrena's headache, at long last, started to recede a little. She'd just needed to sit up for a bit was all. Now, less distracted, she started to really think through their situation.

"Okay, but how did we get _here_?"

Carth sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Our escape pod got away just in time, probably just because Malak wanted to take Bastila alive and he wasn't sure if she'd gotten away or not. We set down hard and you were badly hurt. Fortunately I made it through okay and managed to pull you out before the Sith got to us. I found this abandoned apartment and, well, here we are."

Concentrating on their situation seemed to be helping with the headache, as well as keeping her mind off what had happened on the Spire. She threw herself into it with a will, her mind processing the information quickly, calculating their course of action.

"Okay, so we need to find her as quickly as we can." She crossed her arms in thought, eyes sliding shut while she tried to grasp their situation.

"What do you know about this planet?"

* * *

Carth couldn't help but be impressed with the young woman. She'd been beaten down pretty hard, and that on top of some pretty traumatic experiences, and here she was doing the only thing she could; pulling herself together, finding a goal, and going forward. He'd known many soldiers far more experienced than her who'd never gained the mental strength to do just that.

"Honestly I don't know much. We were briefed on the battle plan, not the planet. I do know that we're behind Sith lines here. They control the planet, and from the gossip on the street they've blockaded the planet and created a quarantine. And that's about it."

Carth could almost see the gears turning in Kyrena's head, so he fell silent. He had a rough plan already, but letting her work through it was just about the only thing he could do for her. He had a basic knowledge of first aid, but head injuries were beyond him.

"Okay . . . okay. First we need weapons. Then we need supplies and to secure this apartment. Then we'll see if we can find Bastila."

Carth frowned in thought.

"Putting off finding Bastila could be disastrous. If the Sith find her first, the war is lost and it doesn't matter what we do."

She didn't look at him as she replied, still playing out the scenario in her mind. "Yes, but finding her with no way to improve our situation, with no place to hide or weapons to defend her . . . if we do that we won't make any difference if the Sith find her. Plus, we'll have a lot more freedom to move and look for transport than she will as nobody is looking for us. And, most importantly, she has a lightsaber and the force to defend her, and we have what, two blasters?

Carth shrugged, forced to agree even though it felt vaguely wrong not to go after her right away.

"True enough. I was trapped in the escape pod bay, so I couldn't bring anything, but I managed to pull your bag and the survival pack from the escape pod."

Kyrena opened her eyes. "Well, let's see what we have."

All in all, it wasn't much.

His two customized blasters, Kyrena's blaster pistol, her vibrosword, and a handful of credits made up all their available resources. Carth felt his eyebrows rise as his last shake of the bag dropped a lightsaber onto the table. Suspicions echoed immediately through his mind and he gave Kyrena a sidelong glance.

She gave him a little shrug, though she twinged a bit with embarrassment. "I thought it might be useful."

He sighed and firmly stepped on his paranoia. He'd watched her for quite a bit of her trip through the Endar Spire and no sane person would have held back force powers in that mess. _Come on, Carth, don't be unreasonable._

* * *

Kyrena sighed and slid herself off the bed and winced as sore muscles got back to work. "Well, the sooner we get out there the sooner we find Bastila."

"Agreed."

They geared up in silence, Kyrena hesitating only a moment before reaching for her filthy light armor.

"Wait, Kyrena." She looked up at Carth in confusion, trying hard not show the relief that flooded through her.

"We have to keep a low profile, we can't go out looking like we just got out of battle, especially not with Republic combat armor on." He shivered. "I've heard some grim stories about dark Jedi interrogation techniques. They say the force can do terrible things to a mind. It can wipe away your memories and destiny your very identity! But I figure if we keep a low profile and don't do anything stupid we should be okay. I mean, after all . . . they're looking for Bastila, not a couple of grunts like us."

She nodded silently, slid the stained combat armor beneath her bed, and made for the door. "It'll be alright Carth. Let's go."

Carth wasn't sure exactly how it happened, but somehow in the course of their conversation he'd gone from humoring the frightened little girl to dealing with an equal.


	3. Duel of the Fates

Hey, sorry for the incredible delay. Sadly I lost interest in continuing to upload because nobody gave me reviews. Thankfully, I got a new reviewer! So I've started uploading again. I am well ahead of this point (maybe 5 chapters or so), so if you want me to upload, let me know your thoughts on it! Also, this is where I start to deviate significantly from the events of the story, though the overall plot is intact (more or less).

Chapter 3: Duel of the Fates

Kyrena knew they were in trouble the moment they stepped out of the apartment. Down the hallway a Sith trooper, in uniform but not the fully enclosed silver and black combat armor, stalked moodily through a crowd of aliens, two humanoid assault droids in tow.

"Alright" he snapped, "this is a raid. Everyone up against the wall."

A duros with more guts than sense spoke up in his native guttural language.

"You Sith were here just yesterday and you didn't find a thing! Why are you bothering us?"

The Sith was so surprised he paused for a second, eyebrows crinkled in consternation. Then he half-shrugged and leveled his blaster rifle. He was so close to the duros that the sound of the shot mixed with his scream as the duros went down hard. Everyone, Sith included, seemed taken aback by the sudden violence in the upper city. The instant silence was filled with the smell of burning ozone and flesh.

The Sith shook himself, resettled the sneer on his face, and lashed out again. "Now get up against the wall before I lose my temper again."

Kyrena kept her eyes on the Sith while unsuccessfully trying to hold back a shiver.

The Sith scanned the crowd and did a double take on seeing the two humans amidst the sea of aliens.

"What?" The Sith muttered to himself. "Two humans hiding among aliens?" His pitch rose steadily as he spoke until he was shouting towards his assault droids. "They're Republic fugitives! Kill them!"

The droids, following their programming, were watching their masters back, which had them looking in exactly the wrong direction when the fighting started.

Something moved inside Kyrena, that same frightening something that had controlled her on the Endar Spire.

Time seemed to slow, everything distorting and sliding further away, in the moment that thing moved. She fought it, held it down. There was no attention left for fighting Sith or even awareness of the dull sound of blasterfire echoing around her.

She sank to her knees, mind a gridlock. Her eyes flickered open and shut, giving her flashes of meaningless information. Rage-filled duros wrestling with assault droids, an orange-clad man with twin blaster pistols shouting someone's name while firing both weapons. Crowds of many-hued creatures, people, animals; they retreated, fled, regrouped, cowered. Patterns in the crowd swirled and her emotions swung wildly from feelings of sympathy for the Republic soldier, for the Sith, for the crowds, for nobody at all.

In the chaos of her feelings a single thought broke through.

_I will not be controlled!_

She clung to that thought, that center, and gained strength from it. The balance was tipped and the darkness retreated deeper inside.

Reality snapped back into place, like a smeared pane of glass suddenly ripped away. The droids were down surrounded by the bodies of three duros. The sith himself lay flat on his back, face locked in a snarled rictus of pain and hate, torso a steaming mess of uniform and charred flesh. Carth was leaning over her, blaster pistols still in his hands.

Her focus shifted wildly for a moment, switching between the red-hot barrels of Carth's weapons, the gleam of polished white floors now marred by blaster burns, the dry, polluted air filled with the stink of ozone.

"Kyrena, are you alright?"

"Don't say my name," she muttered distractedly in reply as she reached for his arm and got to her feet. She stumbled a little and caught herself on Carth's arm as her vision swam and her head pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

Her mind finally caught up with Carth's question.

"I'm fine." he glanced around again, taking in the scene. On her feet it didn't seem quite as overwhelming. "We have to get out of here."

Carth nodded, intentionally letting her collapse go for the moment. "You're right. They'll be back soon."

Together they half-jogged to the nearest elevator.

…

It was raining. On some worlds this didn't mean much, while on others it sent everyone running for cover. On Taris the rain fell somewhere in the middle. Only a narrow patch of early-afternoon sky, veiled in dark thunderclouds, peaked down on them between the towering smooth-sculpted skyscrapers. Each planet had its unique twist, and Taris was no different. The rain careened off the surrounding towers, ricocheting back and forth and creating a cyclone of water on the upper city walkways.

Almost immediately Carth and Kyrena were soaked to the bone. Their clothes stuck to them while water dripped into their boots, soaking their socks, sliding along their weapons.

The rain, as miserable as it made them, was a blessing in disguise. All the people outside were hunched over, wrapped tight in heavy coats which obscured faces, even species. Even the Sith patrols in their sealed gray and black armor were slouched, heads bent beneath the oppressive atmosphere. Nobody paid two more blurry figures in the rain any attention. There would be no way to connect them to the tower where the patrol was wiped out.

Kyrena could hardly see anything through eyes squinted against the rain. She stumbled onwards, the small part of her mind not busy being miserable idly hoping she wouldn't fall off the walkway. After a solid five minutes she could make out a harsh neon glow of green and yellow reflecting weirdly through the rain. By silent agreement she and Carth both stepped towards it. Anything would be more productive than wandering around outside.

The lights outlined the entrance to a massive cantina. They dried themselves off as best they could and took in the scene before them. Immediately before them lay rows of glow tables where Pazaak players cursed and cheered as credits changed hands. The glow of the tables fought the dim lighting of the rest of the establishment.

Beyond the card tables lay a massive bar stocked to the ceiling with drinks from across the galaxy. Carth gave her a significant look and moved off in the direction of the bar in search of rumors of the downed escape pods, and probably a little shot of morale booster as well.

Kyrena weaved her way through the Pazaak players before something caught her eye. There was a side chamber filled with humans. The notable exception was a massive hutt, eagerly exchanging credits with a small crowd of shouting, milling onlookers.

A handful of humans stood apart from the crowd, all men with a single woman. They watched the crowd dispassionately. Kyrena approched the woman hesitantly. She opened her mouth to ask a question but never got the chance.

The striking woman turned to glare at Kyrena, her hair pulled back so tightly it made her expression even more fierce. "Wait, wait, don't bother. I already know what you're going to say. It's great to see a woman in the duel ring, strike a blow for equality, I'm a credit to my gender, blah blah blah." She rolled her eyes. "Just save it, okay? I'm just here to take care of business in the ring." Her tone became exasperated and quieter as she broker off into muttering to herself. "Every woman who comes in here thinks we should have some kind of female bond. Well guess what everyone! We don't!"

Kyrena broke in haltingly.

"But I just was hoping to ask..."

The woman's focus snapped back to her again, expression soured in distaste. "Look, girl, if you're looking for a match, go talk to Ajuur. He's that big hutt over there in the corner. Otherwise, just go away." With that she turned away and stared resolutely at the crowd of wildly betting humans.

Kyrena backed way, caught between irritation and surprise, and maybe just a little hurt, before the oldest man of the group stepped over to her. He was balding and wrinkles ran across his face, but he was in good shape and greeted her with a smile.

"Hello there offworlder. You'll have to forgive my associate there." He glanced in the nasty woman's direction and frowned as she pointedly ignored him. "Anyways, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Marl, and I'm one of the duelists here at the cantina."

Kyrena warmed to him almost immediately. "Could I... could I ask you some questions?"

He seemed to be amused at the hopeful curiosity in her voice.

"My area of expertise is pretty much limited to the dueling ring and the other combatants here at the cantina, but I'll try to answer any questions you might have."

Kyrena excitedly let loose a flood of questions. "Have you lived long on Taris? What's it like? And what are these duels about? They're not to the death are they?

Marl laughed with genuine humor. "Slow down there! Give me a chance to answer. I've lived here in the upper city all of my life, but I've been so focused on becoming a duelist I haven't traveled much, so I can't tell you much more than what's recorded in the official visitors guides." He smiled wistfully. "The upper city is a beautiful place where travelers from all over the galaxy can find entertainment and business. Ah, I wish you could have seen the city in its glory days..." His smile faded somewhat. "But stay out of the lower city – it's nothing but a gang-ridden slum." He shook himself free of his momentary dark mood. "I'm sorry, what was your next question?"

Kyrena paused for a moment, reigning in her enthusiasm and trying to choose just one question at a time with an entirely new culture before her. "You mentioned you were a duelist. How do the duels work?"

Marl replied with enthusiasm, obviously pleased to talk about his passion.

"The duels themselves are simple enough. Two combatants armed with stun pistols or blunted vibroswords enter the ring. One walks out a winner, the other is carried out unconscious on a stretcher." He eyed her appraisingly for a moment. "If you're interested in setting up a match – or if you just want to place a wager – just go speak to Ajuur."

Kyrena hesitated for a half-beat, debating whether or not to ask Marl about their real goal. In the end she decided that she had a good feeling about him. Aside from that, he seemed like a nice enough man and hadn't expressed any great love for the Sith.

"Have you heard anything about the crashed Republic escape pods?"

He eyed her quizzically for a moment before replying slowly.

"I'm afraid I don't know anything that's not in the news reports, and those are censored by the Sith. Some pods crashed into the undercity, and anyone caught harboring survivors will be arrested and executed. Really, I don't think it's any of my business. I mean, if the Sith want to call themselves rulers of Taris, that's fine by me, just so long as they don't shut down the dueling ring."

He seemed a lot less excited to speak with her now, going so far as to glance over his shoulder. "Is there anything else you want to know? Because I should really get back to what I was doing."

Kyrena let him go with a thank you and moved over to the side of the room away from the crowd to ponder on what she'd learned. Her enthusiasm calmed as the gears started turning in her mind. Her thoughts were interrupted, however, when a hidden speaker chimed to life, speaking basic before shifting to a half-dozen other languages.

"Please place your final bets, the duel is about to begin!"

A wall-mounted viewscreen snapped to life, drawing her eye.

The arena was a large dome ringed by chanting fans. Two circular platforms ascended from below carrying two humans both in a sort of off-white uniform with blaster pistols at their hips. The announcer droned on as they slowly ascended into the ring, introducing Deadeye Duncan and Gerlon Two-fingers.

Two dampening field projectors descended from the ceiling and attached themselves to each of the duelists backs, audibly humming as they prepared to slow incoming vibroblades and vibroswords enough to avoid broken bones.

At last the duelist's platforms locked into the arena with a clanger. The wide open field left the two duelists eyeing each other, hands over their magnetically sealed holsters as the timer trickled to zero.

The duel was a quick affair.

Gerlon opened fire and Duncan rolled to the side in an effort to dodge. He tripped as he tried to get to his feet and dropped in a heap, his stun pistol clattering out of reach. Gerlon shot him in the chest with a single, contemptuous shot.

The announcer chimed in as Gerlon acknowledged the crowd with a wave and headed for his platform.

"And, to nobody's great surprise, Deadeye is down again. Don't worry folks, he's just unconscious." The commentator chuckled to himself. "As usual. Our medics will have him up and about in no time. Well that was quick, wasn't it? So I give you the winner... Gerlon Two-fingers!"

"Not exactly an exciting match."

Kyrena jumped as Carth's voice spoke from right next to her.

Carth held out a steaming mug of caf, which she eagerly accepted. The drink burned her tongue, but the wonderful warm feeling moving through her throat and into her stomach was worth it. The rest of her still-damp body shivered at the contrast, and she wrapped her hands tightly around the mug to pull in every last bit of warmth she could.

Carth, his own mug held in one hand, gestured toward the viewport (currently trying to create a match highlight real out of the five second duel) with a nod.

"You know," he said softly, "that might not be such a bad idea."

Kyrena narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

Carth shrugged easily. "Well, we could use the credits from these duels. I mean, we're soldiers. How else could we earn credits quickly? And besides . . ." He paused and gave her a sidelong glance. "You could probably use some practice. That last fight didn't' go so well for you."

Kyrena felt herself blush. Carth was putting it lightly. Collapsing on the ground in the middle of a firefight was embarrassing for a raw recruit. For an experienced army scout, however little time she'd spent in the fleet, it was degrading. Doing it while a _navy_ man got the real work done, well, that was just humiliating.

"We'd have to be careful though," he mused, rubbing at the stubble that was coming in along his jaw. He was either too absorbed or too polite to notice Kyrena's embarrassment. "We can't use your real name. We'll have to think of something to do about that. Hmm. What do you think?"

Kyrena bought time by taking another pull on her caf. The idea of fighting in front of people was both frightening and, oddly, exciting. She tried to separate her feelings and think about it logically. She was a trained scout, she could probably win a couple of fights. It would get them some money, surely, but also notoriety, exactly what a scout tried to avoid. On the other hand, spending all of her time in trying not to be noticed was precisely what made showing off everything she could do in front of people so appealing.

Then a thought occurred to her.

"Why don't you do it? If we're really in this for the money, then we need to win, and as recent fights show (she managed to contain herself to a single quick blush) you're definitely the better fighter."

Carth nodded. "Perhaps. But, well, I'm actually fairly well known." He shrugged, looking mildly self-conscious. "There's a chance someone might recognize me if we put my face onto viewscreens in front of hundreds or thousands of people. Plus, it will probably help you more than me. I wouldn't hold anyone back in a fight, but I'm a pilot, not a commando."

"Well . . ." She steeled herself, focusing on the excitement instead of the fear. "Okay, I'll do it." "Good girl. I'll go get it set up. Carth gave her a smile and wandered off towards the other fighters.

The viewport, now blank, had reverted to a window into the gray morning just starting to lighten into daylight. Kyrena stepped closer and gazed out, trying to settle the butterflies in her stomach while the raindrops eased their way down the fragile glass.

...

The corridors far beneath the crowd's gaze were a study in contrast with the bright and shiny arena above. The lighting was provided by the flickering of a handful of glowpanels that painfully clung to life. Exposed not-quite-sealed utility pipes made the changing room even more dank than years worth of accumulated dust and grime could have accounted for alone. Of the six lockers only one looked like it had been used recently, with the top layer of dust removed and a lock on it. It must have been Ice's.

She tried the first locker, but the door was jammed. The second door came off altogether: it had only been leaned up against the locker. She replaced it and hoped nobody would notice. The third opened halfway before the rust on the hinges got in the way. It would have to do.

She pulled off her boots and socks and gingerly set her naked feet on the floor. The tile was cold, and she hoped nothing too nasty lived on the floor. She quickly pulled off the rest of her clothes and help up the dueling garb they'd given her.

Well, it was clear the target audience was male. _Typical_. Theoretically the outfit was padded to protect from vibroswords and vibroblades. In practice, the outfit was so thin and revealing that she'd have to rely entirely on the suppression field to protect her. Fantastic.

Kyrena pulled on the skintight white uniform. Well, mostly white. On closer examination she could see the faded gray smears of blaster stun marks that hadn't quite washed out. _Do the guys have to wear this?_ She couldn't actually remember. The one duel she'd seen had gone so fast. Before the guy had been _shot_ _in the chest_ with an honest to goodness _blaster_.

_What am I doing here? How in the galaxy did I get myself into this mess?_ A hidden loudspeaker crackled to life, static as loud as the voice. "30 seconds to lift." The voice completely distracted her thought process and sent her scrambling into the ridiculous outfit. "15 seconds." She dashed down the corridor to the lift, just remembering to scoop up the belt with a stun pistol and small vibroblade in her right hand and the naked vibrosword in the left. "5 seconds."

She could see the platform now, a little circular elevator at the end of the walkway. With a burst of speed she launched herself at the platform and made it just as it ground into motion. A portal above opened in the arena floor and the volume cranked way up. Vaguely she could hear the announcers voice introducing her to the crowd, but the wall of sound was so intense she couldn't focus on any of the words.

She didn't even notice the suppressor being attached to her back.

The bright white lights were blinding, but that only made the impression of hundreds of people leering and hooting at her in her outfit all the stronger in her imagination. She fought the urge to hunch down and cover herself.

The announcer wasn't talking any more and suddenly a screaming man wildly waving a vibrosword came racing towards her from across the arena. If he hadn't been screaming she probably would have missed him altogether until he was right on top of her.

Her shock and instant fear overcame her paralysis and she got her own vibrosword out in time to block the first attack, but had to drop the combat belt to do it. It was a near thing. All she had now was her sword.

Sparks flew as their blades met. Her paltry defense was virtually batted aside, but her opponent stepped back instead of pressing the advantage. He kept his blade up in a cautious defensive stance at odds with his wild charge. Then the last thing she expected happened – he started talking to her in a completely calm, rational tone.

"Hey, sorry about that, but I had to get your attention."

The words didn't seem to be making sense. "What?" She kept her own blade in a guard as well. Why wasn't he attacking? She was clearly off-balance still.

"The first time is pretty overwhelming. I'm going to come in low."

True to his word he darted in low with a swift slice she parried with difficulty. He danced back out of reach before she could even think of counter attacking. Her brain still seemed off somehow, as if she was caught in some sort of dream.

"Not bad." He gave her a quick smile. "We can turn this into a pretty good show, the two of us. Now I'm going to circle you so you can get a good look at the arena, but I'm coming in high half-way through."

Kyrena didn't question this remarkable series of events. She was too busy trying to follow his advice.

The arena, as before, was a circle of white. Their blades flashed together again. What wasn't immediately apparent was that the floor wasn't completely smooth, but rather gently sloped into low mounds. Sparks scattered from their blades, one extinguishing itself on the guard of her sword. Treacherous footing if you weren't aware of it or paying attention.

They'd completed their turn.

"Your defense is getting better, you're getting more comfortable. Good, but the crowd is getting restless." Now that he mentioned it, she could hear a scattering of boos. "Come on, let's see what you got." He flashed a cocky grin which belied the sheen of sweat which covered his face, which was all she had time to take in of his appearance.

She attacked.

She didn't go all in, restricting herself to a handful of basic attacks while waiting for some sort of trick. Those few moments of acclimatization had done wonders for thinking, and the attack wasn't half bad.

Her opponent, however, seemed to be hard pressed. Somehow she'd caught him off balance, and only a stumbled retreat rescued him from a slap of her blade.

_How . . ._

He was back up in guard, though his cocky grin had given way to a worried grimace. Her confusion must have been written on her face, because her opponent gestured with his head ever so slightly to his left. He started circling again, giving her time to look. She saw it immediately – a round holonet video droid. His circling momentarily put his back to the droid and just for an instant the grin was back and he gave her a wink. "Let's put on a show."

And they did.

The longer Kyrena spent in the ring the clearer her head became. After the chaos and fear of her initial start, she started to relax and fight with the skill she'd earned in her scout days. The thoughts about the crowd, what she must look like, even Carth and their mission, faded away until there was just the two of them, just their vibroswords. Soon the man didn't need to shout out advice disguised as taunts for the camera. Soon not all of his awkward dodges were faked.

Still, even as Kyrena brought the full brunt of her training to bear, the man did not cave. Nor was he without skill of his own. Several times he only just managed to twist clear strikes into her blade, and often he pretended her blocks had a lot more power than they did.

It was fun. Almost a game, really. She even managed to return the favor once or twice on her better strikes. She couldn't get the grin off her face. Together they danced across the uneven floors as the crowd roared, cheering every strike and groaning at every stumble.

At last, after several exhausting minutes they broke apart for a moment, breathing hard. Sweat glistened down her bare arms, making the grip on her vibrosword slippery. She finally got to really take a look at her opponent. He was just over her height, brown eyes returning her gaze steadily beneath his dark hair cropped short. He wore an off-white, looser version of her own outfit, which, though he wasn't exactly ready to explode out of it, at least displayed some pretty toned muscle. Not a bad looking guy.

"I think it's about time," he panted between breaths. "Come at me again . . . with that same . . . high-low pattern you did before."

Well, following his advice had worked out well so far.

She attacked as he asked, but this time he wasn't quite as quick on defense. His blade came up slowly and deflected at an odd angle, leaving him completely vulnerable to the swipe she took at his stomach.

He folded over, eyes bugging out as he fought to suck in air that wouldn't come before collapsing to the ground. Only someone as close as Kyrena could see that he actually started to fold over slightly before the blow landed. That, combined with the suppressor field's slowing effect, robbed the blow of most of its power . . .

The announcer's voice cut over the crowd's cheers.

"It's over! The fight is over! The Mysterious Stranger as won! But really, are any of us surprised? Deadeye losing isn't news. You have to do better than that to impress us, stranger!"

…

"Well done Kyrena! That was quite the match."

Carth favored her with a pleased smile while he fingered their newly accrued collection of credits.

They sat at the bar in the cantina, Kyrena holding a mug of steaming caf and Carth something stronger.

"That guy would have taken me apart if he'd gotten in close; I'm no good at all with vibroswords. I prefer them at blaster range, or even better, under the guns of a starship."

To Kyrena's surprise, while Carth was talking none other than Deadye Duncan slid into the empty seat next to her.

"It's you!"

He smiled while Carth looked over to see what had distracted Kyrena with a look of mild irritation.

Duncan had changed from his duelist garb into painfully nondescript outfit of loose, dark pants and grey jacket which would blend in with most of the crowds Kyrena had seen in the upper city.

"What are you doing here?"

Duncan tapped on the bar to get the droid bartender's attention before replying.

"I came to talk to you about the dueling ring, of course."

Kyrena gave him as withering a look as she could manage.

"Thank you for what you did, but _why_ did you let me win?"

Duncan winced and brought a finger to his lips. "Easy girl, not so loud and I'll explain."

The droid bartender slid Duncan his drink and he took it without looking. He lowered his voice and leaned in slightly. "Look, 'Mysterious Stranger,' I'm a little more than just the bottom rung punching bag most take me to be. Ajuur pays me extra to keep an eye out for potential duelists and help them along in their first duel. I also try to head off the really incompetent ones, both for their own good and to keep the waters clear, so to speak, for the duelists with more potential."

Kyrena frowned, but lowered her voice to match his. "And I assume you let me win because you approve?"

He smiled. "Right in one. You've got potential, girl, and you've obviously had at least some training, but you're going to need a lot of work. Whatever training duels you've had aren't like this kind of fighting where your next meal is on the line."

Carth leaned in himself now, his brow furrowed in suspicion.

"Why do I get the feeling you're trying to sell us something?"

Duncan's smile turned into a toothy grin. "Not for beating around the bush, I see. That's right. I'll train the girl in the art of the vibrosword, but for a price."

Though Carth wasn't happy about the cost, he eventually relented after Kyrena reminded him that teaching her to fight _was_ more or less the point of her joining the duel ring in the first place, and that she'd have a better shot at winning another duel, and making more credits, if she did.

Their business concluded, they stepped back outside. The storm had finally broken and the last rays of sun shown magnificently through skyscrapers as they headed back to their apartment for the night.


	4. The Morning After

Chapter 4: The Morning After

Kyrena opened her eyes. Sunlight streamed through the cracked transpirasteel window, highlighting dust motes as they danced across her vision. She closed her eyes for a moment to luxuriate in the warm glow of the sun on her skin. It was a new day filled with new possibilities on a new planet.

Then she tried to sit up.

Her whole body groaned, each muscle aching the moment she used it. It was a good ache, the familiar soreness of hard exercise.

_Ooff, I'm out of shape. How long has it been since I exercised?_

The thought slipped out of her mind as she took in their apartment room. Daylight revealed much she'd missed previously.

Frankly, it was a dump. From her vantage point on the lone, hard bed she could see that it hadn't been cleaned in some time. Dust coated the floor, save a little spot swept clear by Carth tossing in his sleep on the floor. The single window had been smashed, letting in the wind and rain every time there was a storm. As a result the apartment was cold and damp, which meant mold was mixed with the trash left by previous squatters.

Lovely.

At least the rain had stopped, though a cold breeze rattled through the gaps in the transparisteel, making her shiver. Overall, it was definitely not conducive to a good night's sleep.

She shivered, pulled her jacket tighter around her and lay back down, hoping Carth wouldn't wake for a while yet.

"Mooargh!"

"Ugh. Good morning to you, too, Carth."

Carth mumbled something non-committal and climbed to his feet with a grunt.

Kyrena closed her eyes and tried to enjoy her last few minutes while she listened to Carth puttering around and opening the pre-packaged food packets and instant caf the last of her winnings had bought. Not exactly tempting fare.

Carth poked her gently and offered another grunt.

She opened her eyes and found herself staring at Carth's face. His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, and his orange jacket smudged with dust. Clearly not a morning person.

She sat up as Carth handed her a cup of caf and wandered back to his spot on the floor. The magnitude of their position came crashing home again. Yes it was a new day, but with the same impossible mission.

_Look at us. A dirty, broke, marooned couple of soldiers with a blaster pistol and vibrosword apiece trying to rescue a jedi knight on a blockaded planet occupied by the Sith. Fantastic._

Carth, eyes mostly closed, yawned and stumbled on the blaster pistol by his makeshift sleeping spot, spilling a mouthful of caf and eliciting a string of curses.

_Yeah, this is going to go well._

She drained her caf and headed to the refresher, silently hoping the water was still connected.

The day was brighter, Kyrena's mood cheerier, and life considerably better after the second cup of caf and a good shower. Remarkably they had both heat and water pressure, though the temperature control had been finicky.

Kyrena finished toweling off her hair and pulled it back into a damp pony-tail. She tossed their lone towel to Carth, who was using words again. Caf truly worked miracles.

Kyrena sat on her bed and took stock of their situation. Unfortunately nothing had changed while she was showering. They had basic weapons, some light armor they couldn't use without being arrested, no credits, and nothing even close to a passable set of identification that didn't scream "Republic." If a simple, random foot patrol asked for any sort of documentation, they were dead. And they'd have to do better than that if they wanted to get past the security protecting all the elevators deeper into the city. No doubt there were ways to get down without the guards knowing, but coming back up without alerting every Sith on the planet was another story altogether. And as she'd argued to Carth in the not-too-distant past, giving this Jedi Shan two blasters, however good, would accomplish nothing against an entire planetary occupation force. What they needed to give her was a way out.

How they were supposed to do that, however, she had no idea. No doubt every starship captain on the planet was poking around trying to find out the exact same thing. Well, first thing was first. They'd take a look at getting down into the lower city, and jump at any possibility of figuring out a way off the planet.

Carth poked his head out of the refresher, accompanied by a cloud of steam, and interrupted her thoughts.

"Hey Kyrena, don't drink all the Caf while I'm in here."

She rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry, I'll be good."

Carth lay deep in the foliage of a rooftop garden at his young scout's advice, trying not to notice that same young women lying next to him. And definitely not noticing the spot where their thighs touched. That would be inappropriate, unfaithful even.

_ Easy Carth, keep your mind on the job_._ You don't even know her._

He refocused on the object of their reconnaissance, a landing on the building across the skyway and three stories down. Or, more accurately, the elevator down to the lower city and the fully armed and armored Sith soldier guarding it on the landing.

Kyrena, eyes glued to a cheap pair of binoculars they'd "acquired" from another apartment in their building along with a handful of credits, jabbed him with an elbow. Just recompense for his thoughts, no doubt.

"We have incoming Carth."

She handed him the binoculars. They were far below the standard military models he'd used in the past, with only limited zoom and sound pick-up. Still, they got the job done.

The Sith's full silver-and-black armor snapped into focus.

A Sith patrol marched over to the elevator. The guard gave a cursory nod and flipped the elevator control to send down the patrol. No paperwork. No challenge. No special ID or authorization. After turning away at least a dozen upper city citizens just the sight of a Sith uniform and they were through.

"Well, it looks like we've found our way in. But we should stay here most of the day just to be sure."

Carth merely grunted in affirmative.

He might have deserved the elbow, but it still hurt.

"Ok, so where are we going to get uniforms?"

Carth set down his drink and leaned back in the cantina chair that evening as he asked the question, keeping one eye on the crowded bar. While he was a little uncomfortable spending so much time in public, Kyrena's argument about having a better chance of picking up a ship if they were around starship captains more was sensible, if a little desperate. As for the uniforms, he had some ideas, of course, but he might as well try to train up his youthful companion while he could. In the all-too-likely case one of them got killed, it would be the other all alone left to carry on, and he wanted to have her as prepared as she could be for it.

Kyrena also leaned back, her eyes focused intently somewhere in the distance, not seeing the blue-trimmed gray walls, or the neon scrolling advertisements in alien languages that ran around the room's edge.

Kyrena looked thoughtful. "Tell me a little about these Sith. How do they act, how do they fight?"

"Well, that depends on the time period you're asking about."

"Really? What do you mean?"

The cantina chair creaked as Carth leaned forward. He tossed a quick look at the neighboring tables, all of whom were minding their own business, and started talking quietly. Kyrena had to lean in to hear him over the murmur of the cantina.

"The Sith, when they first got back, were under Revan. He was a genius both on and off the battlefield." Carth's voice was filled with grudging admiration. "He single-handedly got the Jedi in the war, whipped the military into shape, and dragged us to victory in spite of ourselves. He was the only one who could beat the Mandalorians, and we loved him for it. He saved us, no doubt about it. Then he turned on us."

He sighed quietly for a moment, shook his head as if shaking out an unwanted thought, and continued.

"Under Revan the Sith fought smart. They were disciplined, motivated, and they attacked like lightning. They were careful to destroy as little s possible with real military value, and he always went to the trouble of capturing it, even if he had to go way out of his way. Even with that disadvantage we couldn't stop him. You have to understand, he didn't just lead the Republic military against the Mandalorians, he organized it almost from scratch from the separate militia units into a proper army; he made the training, he did everything. He _made_ the Republic military. Then the Jedi killed Revan, and Malak took over. Under him, there's no finesse, no strategy. He just attacks with his huge fleet and destroys everything in his path, no matter the casualties. They say that these days the only way for a Sith to get promoted is to kill their superior, that's how little they value life."

Carth looked off into the distance, brooding, and Kyrena contemplated. They sat like that, quietly listening to the faint sound of commercials, for a few moments before Kyrena broke the silence.

"I think I have it."

"What? Have what?"

"A plan. Malak seems to favor brute strength. If we ambush a patrol and take their armor, even if we somehow did it without damaging the armor, we'll be seen as an unknown threat, something worth looking out for. But if we steal the armor in a way that makes a Sith look weak, then they'll cover it up for us."

Carth nodded, his bad mood breaking as he concentrated on her words. "That sounds good, Kyrena, really good. But they probably lock up their armor when off-duty."

"Hmmmm . . . somehow we have to get them to put it somewhere else for the night. What else do Sith do on this planet, anyways?"

Carth shrugged. "I have no idea."

"Well, let's find out." Kyrena stood and started to move towards a group of humans huddled around a table by themselves, and Carth grabbed her arm.

"Wait, you're just going to go over and _talk_ to them!?"

Kyrena smiled. "Of course. That's half of what scouts do, Carth. We mix with cultures, gain trust, and people tell us things. Why do you think I know so many languages?"

She shrugged off Carth's arm and stepped over towards a lone man at a booth. She had a good feeling about this one. Her luck was talking again, and her luck hadn't let her down yet. He was not the most attractive man she'd ever run into, that was for sure. The inebriated man of about thirty looked up at her approach. His eyes were misty,

"Wow, are a you real live Sith?" Throw in a ditzy smile, admiring eyes, and a properly flirty pose, and . . .

The Sith gave her a lecherous look, though he tried to disguise it. "Sure am, honey. First lieutenant, an officer!" Privately Kyrena suspected life-long private, but fixed a properly impressed look on her face. Drunks weren't hard to please, though you had to watch out for the mood swings. The man looked past her and his face darkened. "That yer man?"

Kyrena glanced over her shoulder to see Carth glowering at them. "Get lost, mercenary. This is a _real_ soldier, here." Carth threw up his hands and headed over to the bar, and Kyrena turned back to the Sith now puffing himself up at the table, which honestly looked rather ridiculous. She slid into the seat opposite him before he could invite her to sit in beside him. "So what's it like being a real soldier? Have you fought in any battles? What do you think of Taris?"

…

Carth nursed his drink at the bar and refused to look over where Kyrena flirted shamelessly with the enemy. '_Mix with cultures' she says, 'gain their trust' she says. _He ground his teeth in frustration. True, the risk was minimal, he forced himself to admit, but still. It was the principle of the thing! And on this planet, it wasn't like they could go to the police if something went wrong – the Sith _ran_ the local police on top of having a whole kriffing army parked right on top of them. Plus, did she have to pick one obviously interested in nothing but her body?

…

"Wow, that's so cool! You have real battle armor? Why don't we get out of hear and you can show it to me?" Kyrena through in a wink, though that might have been overdoing. Meh, he was drunk. Obvious was better with drunks. Honestly, she was going for broke here. She'd hoped just to pick up the location of the nearest Sith base and maybe the patrol schedule, if she was lucky, but this could be the jackpot.

The man gave an exaggerated nod and struggled to his feet. Kyrena deftly slipped under his arm and smiled despite taking a lot more of his weight than she expected. They staggered out into the twilight of evening which seemed even darker as her eyes adjusted from the bright neon of the cantina. In fact, it threw her off just enough not to notice that he'd reached out to-

The dark thing inside her snarled, stronger by far than it had been during the firefight, filled with the need to fight, to rend, to destroy. Without thought her hand shot up and grabbed his arm, pulling it back away from her chest, ready to break it and then break _him_. Just as the time before, her mind went into overdrive, but this time she had a little better idea of what to expect. Instead of collapsing to the ground she held herself still, held back from attacking the drunk, and she weathered the storm inside her.

"Uh uh, not yet. Let's wait until we're somewhere a little more private."

The drunk grunted in disappointment, but was distracted from the odd forced timbre in her voice by leaning over and throwing up all over the street.

Disgust snapped the darkness' concentration and she was in control once again. Shaken, but in control.

* * *

Carth followed the pair as stealthily as he could, though the sith was so plastered there wasn't much need for stealth. Kyrena half carried the Sith onwards past a block of apartments before he motioned them towards a parked skimmer. Carth cursed and hurried to catch up, but the aircar's cockpit had sealed shut before he reached them, and his shouts couldn't be heard over the roar of the skimmer's engine as it revved to life and launched them soaring into the night.

…

Carth stewed in their appropriated apartment after a restless night's sleep. He sat and tried to play Pazaak in his head. He paced. He disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled his blaster pistols. He paced some more. For him it was getting close to a worst-case scenario. Someone he had unconsciously, foolishly decided to care about, to take responsibility for, was in danger and he couldn't do anything about it. Her comlink was off, so he couldn't talk to her. And worst of all, he couldn't move, couldn't act, because where else would she come but back here? That left him very much alone, with nothing to do but think. And that was a very bad place to be, because his thoughts inevitably started to drift back to her, and then inevitably to his -

_Stop it, Carth. Focus on the here and now, on the mission._

Okay, review the mission one more time. They needed to find transport off the planet, quiet transportation, and they needed to get into the lower city, and - he was interrupted by the ring of his commlink. He scrambled over from his the circle of clear floor he'd cleared of dust with his steps and grabbed the communicator from the work bench.

"Hello, yes? Are you there Kyrena?"

::Yeah, I'm here Carth. I'm heading up the elevator now::

Carth felt like a dam had broken inside him. Relief flooded through his system, but with the breakdown he felt all the anxiety crash out as well.

"How could you do that? How could run off on me like that? You could have been killed, you could have been captured, you could have been gang-raped, hell, you could-"

::Carth, can you save it for later? I need help hauling this armor back to the apartment::

...

Kyrena leaned up against the elevator wall and gasped for air, sweat running into her eyes. She wiped it clear and waited for Carth to help her haul the huge pack from the elevator back to the apartment. The doors split apart to reveal Carth, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently. She forestalled the oncoming storm by jumping in first. "Let's get this back to the apartment, then we can talk."

Carth's eyes narrowed dangerously but he held his peace an stooped to pick up the pack with an oof. It was heavier than it looked. Kyrena pulled stretched her tensed soldiers with a relieved sigh and they made their way back to the apartment. Kyrena felt odd, half eager to get to the apartment and half wishing it would take longer to put off Carth's anger a little longer. Yet, as is the way of such things, at length they arrived and Carth dumped the pack to the ground with a clatter.

"Alright, now talk. Why did you go off alone with a sith like that?" Carth stood ramrod straight, his pack at his feet, glaring daggers at Kyrena. "How can I depend on you if you will just run off without a second thought?"

Kyrena sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, hands in her lap and eyes on her feet. "I don't know, Carth. I just had a good feeling about it." She couldn't see Carth's face, but she could imagine it. Even his feet were shaking.

"You had a GOOD FEELNG ABOUT IT? You risked your life, my life, the mission, maybe even the Republic itself, on a _feeling?_" He sighed explosively and deflated, collapsing into the chair. "Oh Kyrena, what am I going to do with you?"

Kyrena looked up at Carth, who was looking at the ceiling, or would have been had he not been covering his eyes with a hand while he slouched down low, legs outstretched. "Hey, at least it worked, right? We've got the armor and can get into the lower city now." Carth grumbled something indistinct but definitely not all that conciliatory and Kyrena felt her irritation rise. "Hey Carth, it may not have been a good idea, but it worked. I got the armor. And on top of that, I've gotten all of our credits, too. In fact, so far I've done _everything_ around here." It was a little unfair, and she knew it, but her annoyance outweighed it.

Carth raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry I blew up at you. It's done, now, no need to carry it on. Are we good?"

Kyrena sighed. "Fine."

The silence stretched for a few moments, Kyrena determinedly looking at the wall and Carth looking anywhere but at her. At length Carth broke the silence. "So how did you get the armor back, anyways?"

"Well, I found out the hard way that armor is meant to be worn, not carried, so I hired someone to carry it." She could feel Carth's outrage building again. "Hey, relax. I had him walk in front of me, and I had a hand on my blaster and made sure he knew it was there. I had him drop it at the elevator so he doesn't know where we live, then stopped at a couple of other floors first just in case."

Carth eased back down. "Well . . . let's see how well it fits then."


End file.
